


A Band of Thieves Becomes An Actual Band

by SweatBroandHeckaJeff



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Band Fic, Crack sort of, Gen, M/M, Might make another chapter, Possible Relationships - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-09-23
Packaged: 2018-12-25 11:30:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12034968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweatBroandHeckaJeff/pseuds/SweatBroandHeckaJeff
Summary: The walk home from school was always an ordeal. People were always in the way, and anything that even resembled a faster route was blocked off for some inane reason. Ryuji and Akira had divulged in countless heated discuss about this, and each step only filled them with more contempt. Occasionally, though, the arduous plant of waltzing down the concrete jungle of Shibuya can bear fruit. Fruit in the form of a flier for "The Turbo International Battle of the Bands (Japan Only)" and more importantly, notice of the ¥600000 prize money.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure if I want to make this just a self contained joke or maybe make it a series, because I kind of want to do more of this but I also really don't want to leave this unfinished.

The days seemed to tick by for Akira Kurusu. Wake up, go to school, commit felonies, get told to go to sleep by a talking cat. Wake up, go to school, visit a doctor with questionable qualifications, get told to go to sleep again. Meet an old guy with an unpleasantly phallic nose in a dream prison thing. It wasn't a complaint as much as it was a desire for something new. Break up the monotony of wearing bondage gear and repeatedly taking a mask off, that kind of stuff. Maybe yet another after school club or some scrapbooking. He'd heard knitting was making a return this year.

The walk home from school was always an ordeal. People were always in the way, and anything that even resembled a faster route was blocked off for some inane reason. The only thing worse than spending a bajillion hours at school was spending another bajillion walking to the train station! Ryuji and Akira had divulged in countless heated discuss about this, and each step only filled them with more contempt. Occasionally, though, the arduous plant of waltzing down the concrete jungle of Shibuya can bear fruit. fruit in the form of a flier for "The Turbo International Battle of the Bands (Japan Only)" and more importantly, notice of the ¥600000 prize money.

Bursting into the cafe like the hooligans they were, the pair rushed into Akira's sweet bedroom for an impromptu meeting that had been called.

"Okay, team. I have decided on a new tactic for raising awareness and infamy of the Phantom Thieves." Akira began, standing in front of a covered white board. The group always listened to him, he was succinct and decisive, always had a plan. Most of his ideas were well thought out and intelligent, however this idea was nothing of the sort.

"What is it?" They piped up, eager to hear their leader's newest plan. Ryuji leapt out from behind the board and pulled off the bed sheet covering it. The flier was stuck to the board, along with a weird list of words in Ryuji's abysmal, jagged handwriting

"We're entering the TIBBJO, dressed as the Phantom Thieves!!!!" Ryuji practically shrieked. The rest of the team looked on in disgust, prompting Akira to do some jazz hands. "We will be called... Criminally Unstable Ninja Terrorist Strike!" Akira announced, followed by a tiny cackle from Futuba. "Who plays any instruments?"

"I play bass." Makoto admitted, bringing a a trademark anime gleam to Ryuji and Akira's eyes

"I sang in seventh grade I think?" Ann scrunched her face up at mere thought of herself in seventh grade. The gleam grew bigger

"I play a mean synth." Yusuke folded his arms serenely. The other two boys' eyes were now massive pools of water.

"So that's Sakamoto on drums and me on the melodica." Akira regained his composure and gestured to a neglected...piano thing in the corner

"Ahem!" Haru began, pulling the attention from the sad fucking melodica.   
"What? Do you play the triangle or something?" Morgana said,only to be ignored.   
"I play rock guitar!" She put her hands on her hips proudly.   
"So we're gonna be a band then!?" Ryuji hopped up and down.

"NO!!!" Makoto and Ann said in unison, with Yusuke nodding in agreement with the girls.

"Playing an instrument and being a performer are completely different things!" Makoto stated. "Why not? You guys are supposed to do stuff we tell you to do..." Ryuji sulked angrily at his supposed friends.

"Because we know nothing about music besides a few chords!" Ann poked him in the chest.

"Well...neither do most bands, but look how popular they are!" Ryuji yelled back.

"He has a point." Morgana purred from Akira's lap.

"None of us want to be in a band!" Makoto stood up to meet the rest of the shouting, making Futuba stand up for no reason.

"I-I'll join, but I'm not going on stage!" The fucking neet added to the conversation, dumping more gasoline on the raging flame war. Yusuke and Akira made eye contact, a Mexican stand off to see who'd lose their cool and jump in first. The blue haired boy raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow at him, tempting him with his every move.

"This band is...is illogical, unfeasible and downright moronic!" Makoto yelled at Haru.  
"Your face is moronic!" She ejaculated, louder than she expected, followed by a curt "sorry"  
"We are forming a band, and I know why you're all going to join." Akira, brandishing a devilish smirk.  
"WHY!?" The girls questioned with more fierceness than the great god of law, Miles Edgeworth.

"¥600000 reward money." Each word was slowly enunciated, giving the colossal sum even more weight. The whole room stood in silence, the argument completely derailed by Akira's trump card of money.   
-  
"So we'll be here on Monday for practise!" Ann said, waving as the group left the cafe, hours into the night.  
"Practise, huh?" Sojiro peered over the top of his newspaper.

"Me and the guys are forming a band." Akira sat at the counter, breathing in the lingering aroma of curry that never truly left the room.

"Good thing I soundproofed the attic..." he groaned as he stood up, putting on his jacket and preparing to leave the shop.

"Hm?" Akira barely caught the quiet grumble. Sojiro tended to grumble a lot.

"Don't worry it about it. You know I used to be a bit of a musician myself?" He cracked a smile, tossing the keys to the frizzy haired teen, who scoffed in surprise.  
"Still, back then I was known as Lotus Juice." He winked, turning to the door and walking out.


	2. Hitting That Sweet Sweet Discord

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Criminally Unstable Ninja Terrorist Strike is underway, and a lot more unsatisfying than anticipated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This a series now, prepare to be disappointed

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEN!!!!!!!"

"AHHH TURN IT OFF!!" Morgana screamed as Ann's gave off a massive wave of feedback.   
"Ahh! My bad!" Futuba wrestled with a very faulty looking music desk.  
"Ryuji, you spaz! This microphone sucks!" Ann yelled at the drummer, who's seat was way too low.   
"I didn't buy any of this crap! It was Akira!" The top of Ryuji's head argued back.  
"Guys, guys , guys! Calm down." Makoto rubbed at her pained ears. Akira had managed to kit out his bedroom with all the instruments they needed, but it was a bit...fucking terrible.

After about three hours of bickering and reattaching broken strings, the warm up period ended. They were all in formation, their instruments at the ready and fired up.  
"Okay, team. Let's start with Search For Mothman." Akira pointed at Ryuji, who slammed on the cymbal with each beat he counted.  
"1 2 3 4!!!" The only good player's epic guitar solo began, eventually easing down into a steady rhythm. Then Ann stepped in with the lyrics that Akira and Ryuji wrote.  
"Everyday, I gain a new ally,  
They can't beat me, no matter how hard they try!

I'm fighting everyday, I keep my sword swinging like a pendulum,  
You can't comprehend-ium the size of my persona compendium!

But there's one little friend the one that I need, so me and my team, can totally succeed!!" And then the whole group joined in at once, belting out something even worse than the first verse...the chorus.

"WHEEEEERE  
ARE YOU, MOTHMAN!?!  
ILL SEARCH  
AS HARD AS I MOTH CAN!!!  
WHEEEEERE  
ARE YOU, MOTHMAN!?!  
I NEED YOUR STRENGTH  
SO I CAN SURVIVE THIS  
MOTH SLAM!!!!!" The song ended with Ryuji smashing every thing that made a noise with his drum sticks and Akira passing out from blowing into his melodica so quickly.

The whole room was getting stuffy and sweaty, causing them to take a twenty minute break, which turned into a forty minute break.  
"Hey Makoto, do we rock or suck?" Haru asked, nursing some weird smoothie thing.

"Oh, we suck." Makoto answered without even trying to be polite.

"We definitely have the capacity to suck less." Yusuke corrected her, causing Ryuji to give him a slap on the back.

"Yeah! That's the spirit, Yusuke!" Technically, the blonde haired boy had the most experience playing the drums and knew the most about his instrument, but had the tendency to stop caring about rhythm half way through a song and make the loudest noise possible. Him and Akira spent many nights on the phone writing Search For Mothman, and had already began work on "I Might Be A Fool But I'm Not Stupid".

Between an occasional crusade into the metaverse and the ever evolving school work load, practising for CUNTS was getting a smaller and smaller window. Even Akira was breaking under pressure, his stoic attitude being slowly replaced with that of a mentally unhinged serial killer. He sat at his desk in school, tapping on his desk erratically to the tune of "1 More Hold Up".

One night, Akira was lying in bed, trying to juggle three conversations at once. He barely felt a part of it, but it didn't bother him. As long as he was around them, he would listen to anything. He had to make sure his position as a leader was one that his friends could trust and support, someone that they would follow. Back when the Phantom Thieves were first banded, the guilt had tore a hole through him. These people's lives would be ruined if the police found out. Every time a new member joined, he wanted to end things more and more. Makoto could never get into a good college, Yusuke would never make it into the art world. Him, Ryuji and Ann made a pact that if they went down, the three of them would take the fall. Akira confronted them one day and told them that it was every man for themselves if they were discovered and that he would take the fall for them. They looked at him like he'd just shit out his own spine. He'd come to terms with the three of them, but he couldn't let the others go down. The band had been a way that he could spend time with them without committing dangerous felonies. He didn't want to admit it, but he faked his enthusiasm a little bit when he saw how excited Ryuji was. He felt like a bad friend for forcing everyone into it, but at least they were slowly enjoying it. Is that Stockholm Syndrome?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't write emotional stuff, please bully me


	3. Cause this is FILLER! FILLER NIGHT!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing helps our boys get over writer's block like a good kick in the eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I make this a serious fic or not pleas e help me

A pot of coffee sat on the floor of Akira's room, neglected after being chugged minutes ago. Him and Ryuji had been brainstorming for hours, but no idea for a song had truly taken precedence.  
"How about...I'm Gonna Need a Diarama For My Heart?" Ryuji exclaimed, scribbling down the song title in his degenerate hand writing.  
"I don't think any of us have had a particularly broken heart." Akira rested closed fist on his chin gently.  
"Besides, Diarahan makes it a lot more extreme." Ryuji crumpled up the paper and dropped it on the ground.

Just when the fountain of ideas was about to completely run dry, a knock sounded at the door.  
"Hey, you two. Are you both fully clothed? The tall one is here." The crotchety voice of Sojiro stated.  
"OF COURSE WE'RE BOTH WEARING CLOTHES!!! WE AIN'T GAY!" Ryuji snapped, putting his hoodie back on for extra emphasis. The was hesitantly opened and Yusuke walked through. He looked withered and haggard. "I finished the artwork for our branding and T-shirts." He croaked out, barely able to support his own body weight. Akira gave him a light tap and let the blue haired boy flop onto his bed and let out an orgasm of relaxation. "What's the pictures like?!" Ryuji leant over him, noticing the lack of a bag or papers on him.  
"I texted it to Akira's phon-snnnnnnt" he curled up like the baby he is and fell into a deep slumber that could only be spawned from making band merch that said C.U.N.T.S look somewhat respectable.

Akira swiped to unlock his phone and loaded up his client, a link was posted from Yusuke. His finger hovered over it. He distinctly remembered Futaba reading out the requirements to the whole group "A band name, a logo and an adult's Parmesan." She had said. 2/3 accomplished, now to either get some cheese or steal Sojiro's signature. He clicked the link. It loaded slowly, the two boys looking on in suspense.

Ann strut into Akira's room 26 minutes later, and they were both standing completely still, faces stuck in a look of horror at Akira's phone. "Hey guys what's u-...." she too was held captive by what was on the phone screen. The picture in question is too atrocious to be described, or even thought of.  
"Wh-who...who could have done this?" she cried, falling to her knees.   
"Him..." Akira said in a Gollum like voice, pointing a crooked finger. Revenge boiled in Ann's stomach, filling her with more desire than ever. The heat passed on to Ryuji, then Akira. They all shared a look, and proceeded to write the greatest song they had ever written so far, staying up the   
whole night to craft it.   
-  
"These synth parts are getting a tad tricky, do you mind if I-" Ann hissed at Yusuke.  
"This song will be half as kickass without our treasured synth playerrrrr~" she glared at him. The band branding had somehow evaded all of their consciousnesses, like a fever dream or more aptly described as a nightmare. Fleeting thoughts had shot through Ryuji's mind as he tossed and turned in his bed, all of which were fragments of the horrid artwork.

Annoyingly, Yusuke had quickly got a hang of the solo. He graced the keys with his silky, artistic phalanges. So delicate yet so deliberate, if the piano were a women, she would be confused as to why a Scooby Gang of teenagers playing broken instruments were right in front of her. But let's forget about that, because Makoto has something to say!  
"I have something to say!" She put her hand up.  
"We need someone on social media to attempt to...get people hype?" Futuba slammed her head on the desk. "I suggest that we nominate a member to be in charge of making us look cool on MySpace and other platforms."  
"MySpace," Futuba began, "There are like a jillion websites and apps, and you choose MySpace." Makoto nodded, cutting her eyes at her. "I'm not doing it."  
A "dammit" of exasperation erupted from each member simultaneously.   
"But that means we have no PR! If only we had someone so infatuated with the idea of being useful that we could manipulate them into doing any boring thing we don't want to..." Haru snickered, causing the whole room to burst out laughing for several minutes.

Akira pulled out his phone and went to type a message to Mishima.   
"That's weird, I don't remember Yusuke sending me a link..." he thought to himself pressing his finger down on it. Greeting him as it loaded was an image that bought back everything. "Is this what having a stroke is like?" Akira thought, passing out each time the image reregistered itself.

  
https://imgur.com/gallery/PQXfA

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> beeees


	4. Things Finally Almost Happen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Round One of the TIBBJO is underway, but before I can write anything fun, there's some talking to go over

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This sucks I hate it  
> You hate it  
> Comment for discontinue

"Hmmm...go fish." Ryuji moved a stack of chips into the middle of the table and rolled a dice.  
"Senpai, I thought we were playing Yugioh...?" Mishima had a puzzled look on his face as he drew another card and flipped a pog.  
"Those are TAROT CARDS, YOU SPASTIC!!" Makoto snapped, angrily turning a page in her stupid nerd book.  
"When's Akira gonna get here!?" Futaba yelled, punching Yusuke's arm. Yusuke's face coiled up, and a single fearful tear slid down his perfect face. Akira had called a meeting and failed to turn up, forcing Ryuji to stall for time with a lighthearted game of "find something fun in Akira's room"

The TIBBJO round one was Saturday, and it had just turned Thursday. They were decently well rehearsed, but still as accident prone. Ryuji's drum set was now 99% sticky tape, from the amount of times he'd accidentally punched through it. Futaba, music desk had lost most of us knobs and dials and Haru's guitar neck was at the opposite end of the room to the bottom part. If they were to get past the first round, they would be pulling all nighters fixing the equipment right until the show. They didn't even have enough motivation or brain power to look up their competition, whose name none of them had even remembered.

"Sorry I'm late, folks." Akira announced at the door, covered in rain water. A wave of "WHERE THE HELL WHERE YOU!!???!!?"s erupted in towards him.  
"I found a guy to fix the stuff by Saturday." He pushed his glasses up, trying not to draw attention to the enormous bags that had built up under his face. He looked close to collapsing, and he could only pass off his sleep deprived dryness as sarcasm for so long. After the first round, he will definitely nap for about as long as it took for Persona 5 to be released in the west.

Thursday was spent as normal, going to school, hanging out with whoever's confidant rank needed boosting, and then practicing until the early hours of the morning to disapproving parents. And then Friday moseyed on down just to give Akira a nice kick in the gouch (and not in the good way). They actually practised for once, but when Futaba finally gained the ingenuity to pull up the website, they were hit with more dread than they'd ever felt before.  
"Three songs performance!?"  
"We only have one nailed!"  
"We're screwed."  
"Akira, I can see your excited fucking face from over here, we are NOT doing Mothman!"  
Little did they know, Akira was smiling at a picture of baby being waterboarded with milk he saw on /b/ the other day.

Saturday had finally descended upon them, and like a ham fisted Majora's Mask reference when it is the last day of something, the dawn of the final day came crashing down on them. Thankfully, the only instruments they needed to bring were the guitars, so they didn't need to worry about transporting the heavy stuff. The train ride to Kanto was exactly what Akira needed, as he could rest his eyes for a power nap and be perfectly ready to perform. He wished he were in the metaverse at that moment, partly because he wanted to just Dia his fatigue away. But also because being slightly sadistic in a whirlwind of shadow desecration cleared his head. He felt alive, he felt open, he felt free. He just hoped the others felt the same way as him about it.

They walked into the warehouse where round one was taking place, and it was less of a toilet than they expected. They immediately rushed off to stow away their belongings back stage while Ryuji and Futaba tried to order alcohol. The two of them returned with arms full of coke zeros.   
"Who're those guys over there, they seem to have a pretty big crowd?" Haru pointed to three adults, talking to a large group of people.  
"Please don't be our competition..." they all silently prayed, except Ryuji. He immediately stood up on his chair and yelled "YO, PRETTY BOYS! THE HELL ARE YOU GUYS?!" and was promptly dragged down by Ann and Yusuke. The trio of men walked over to them. The supposed leader had grey hair cut into a subtle bowl cut, and the guy next to him had shaggy auburn hair. The third towered above the others and had a distinctively punk look about him. Akira had a glimpse of recognition for one of them, but his scrambled brain was still catching up on sleep that wasn't there.  
"We are Team Satisfaction. I'm Yu, that's Yosuke and that's Kanji. We're a rap group." The leader pointed to the other two in his posse.   
"Are you competing tonight?" Yusuke politely greeted them, albeit through gritted teeth. Yu...Yu...Yu...the face and the name definitely fit. He just couldn't pinpoint how he knew him. He he used his knuckle to push up at his lip, as he usually did when he was going over things in his head. And then it clicked.

The long conversations and discussions he'd had with this man flooded his brain. It all started with Akira looking up any stories about persona users on his computer. Everything seemed fruitless except for a website called velvetroom.org  
It was just a blue background and a box that said "enter password". After several attempts, he discovered that the password in question was "man with big nose" and what followed seemed almost like a distant memory. It was a chat room for persona users, specifically wild cards. He'd chatted with Yu about various things for about a week until the website had its plug pulled from lack of use. It seemed to have blotted itself out after that.

"Whose the glasses kid, he mute or something?" Akira jumped back to reality when Yosuke's hand was waved in front of his face. He gathered his thoughts and completely ignored his question, instead, turning to Yu and simply saying "BigBuffIzanagi69?"  
"PhantomTheDarkHedgehog?" Yu said back in perfect calmness.  
"What brings you here?" Akira interrogated.  
"In a band." Yu replied.  
"Us too, maybe we'll see you up there." To the rest of both groups, the friendly conversation seemed more like a murder trial.  
"What's the bands name?"   
"Team Satisfaction. We tried to come up with the gayest band name of all time."  
"But Coldplay was already taken?"  
"Does any of ya' know what the fuck is going on here?" Kanji leaned away from the monotone dialogue.  
"Nope." Futaba assured him.  
"All we know is that your group is going down!!!" Ryuji raised his fist.  
"Well you're going even downer, down town!!" Yosuke retaliated.  
"Work on your insults, guys." Ann sipped her drink.

"Will "Team Satisfaction" Please Enter The Stage. Sound check in five minutes" the intercom sounded, signalling the three to walk off.

"Later guys!" Yosuke said cheerfully, waving briefly before heading backstage.   
-  
"Yeah so we're screwed." Akira said, chugging his Coke Zero.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You, an intellectual: Stealing jokes  
> Me, a cock: Referencing things I find funny


	5. Industrial Espionage...in a way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Round One: In the bag!!  
> (The method is not important)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this is half assed

"We can't do this we can't do this we can't do this we can't do thi-" Futaba's fearful rambling was cut short by a strong slap to her face from Yusuke.  
"These are just nerves, pre show jitters!" He yelled at her, donning his mask. Team Satisfaction had just rocked the house with "We Respect You're Right To Say The N-Word" and walked off the stage with the competition in the bag, the hearts of the crowd and the most smug grin ever known. All that Akira had supplied them with about the existence of the three men was "they're like us but back when people liked rage comics" and pulled out the sheet music of the song they were performing.

They managed to get through sound check, and only half the crowd boo'd. And when it came to actually performing, the crowd wouldn't even quiet down for the MC to introduce the band. After the cacophony was hushed down to a minimum, Ann stepped up to the microphone. She took a deep breath and croaked out: "We are Criminally Unstable Ninja Terrorist Strike!!!" And the playing commenced. The gruelling practise regimes had payed off, and while they were a bit shaky and rigid towards the start, but they definitely fell into a groove. They played hard, and even managed to scrape the expectation of the crowd, who even started to applaud. The feeling of being cheered at for their creations washed away their doubts, their worries, their fears, and replaced with a fire in their collective hearts that even rivalled the legendary libido of Junpei Iori. They got to the end of the song, and went to leave, except Ryuji. His first instinct as future rock sensation drove him to jump into the crowd at full force, being carried for a few seconds before falling to the ground.

"I-I think we did pretty alright!" Makoto buzzed, earning a high five from Haru. Ryuji grinned while holding a diet Fanta to the cartoonishly erect lump on his head. Akira had dropped out almost immediately to "have a smoke or something" even though he didn't smoke, or whatever "whatever" entailed.   
-  
"I can't believe you're in a rap group, senpai." Akira smirked, inhaling his nth Coke Zero of the night. He had left right after they finished to meet with Narukami, still doubting that the situation wasn't a dream. The fact that a man he only knew online with a dubiously similar life to him became a dubiously talented rapper was a completely surreal thought in his brain.

"It was mainly Yosuke's plan. He said that since we already knew how to break dance and Kanji listened to so much K-Pop, it would be a piece of cake. Apparently he's right." Narukami felt as out of body as Akira did, the website was only ever a precaution in case anyone from the very fragmented and cagey explanation of the Gekkoukan students Margret told him about ever found about that part of their life. "Listen, I don't want to let this competition get in the way of me helping you with your journey. But we have very little money, and I just want to say that we're not going to step down. However, if one of our members is hospitalised, I'll gladly skip the next round." He winked at the younger boy, taking a small sip of his white wine.

"Senpai, are you asking me to stab Yosuke?" Akira raised an eyebrow at him.

"Well I was hoping you'd do it with a little more tact at least."  
-  
"Gang! I have a plan to ensure our victory!" Akira strode in with deliberation, his phone in his hand. The whole room's attention was caught, the young teenage eyes staring up at him.   
"Listen, buddy, I think we got this one in the bag!" Ryuji put an arm around him, chuckling.  
"Regardless, this plan will cement our place in the second round for sure, then. And all I have to do is press send." He pushed his glasses up on his face swaggalisciously, then pressed his thumb onto the send button.  
-  
???: Did you know that if you hold your breath for 1 minute then bend down really far, you'll be able to suck your own dick?

Yosuke: RLY!!!!!???!?  
-  
"One of Team Satisfaction's members has been sent to the Urgent Care Unit with several broken ribs and a crack in his neck, CUNTS win by default!" The MC announced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This episode of "unoriginality brigade" is brought to you by tengen toppa gurren lagann giving me motivation to write

**Author's Note:**

> I'm gonna be stealing from Scott Pilgrim a lot because I'm a lazy fucking degenerate. Also please comment any spelling mistakes because I was tired when I wrote this


End file.
